Scream in the Dark
by Let Your Heart Talk
Summary: Very AU. When Violet's mother died, she lost everything that she held dear. Now, close to a year later, new murders in Westfield are occurring rapidly and nobody knows why. Can Violet trust anybody through this ordeal, or is everybody a suspect in the crimes committed?
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Her raven hair dipped down her back as she scrubbed down her kitchen stove before using the burner to make pop-corn for the random movie she picked to watch in a few minutes. She sighed wiping away the sheen of sweat that threatened to drip down her forehead as she threw the now dirty sponge into the sink filled with hot water and soap, proceeding to dry the burner with a towel before flicking the dial to the highest setting.

"God, you'd think someone would scrub this kitchen other than me, but no, I _always_ have to because I can't stand cooking food on a dirty surface." the girl muttered sarcastically under her breath as her cellphone rang in her pocket. 'Mom' flashed on the screen boldly, her fingers contemplating flicking the green icon across her screen to answer.

"Hello?" her voice was monotone and uncaring.

"Chloe? It's mommy, your father and I will be running a little late, our dinner reservation wasn't until six fifteen. I'm sure you can cook for yourself can't you?" a huff of irritation threatened to boil over. Typical, another night of her parents out to where-ever without her. After all, it's been happening since she was fourteen. They just stopped being around, stopped doing things for her. They stopped being parents all together, leaving Chloe to fend for herself.

"What else is new mom?" the word felt so out of place in her vocabulary. "If you were just going to hint that you would be out all night again, for the third night this week, don't bother. I don't care anymore."

"Chloe Marie Stapleton! I am your mother-" her voice clicked off as Chloe disconnected the call.

"Some mother." she mumbled again, setting a thing of jiffy-pop popcorn on the hot burner. Letting it settle on the heat. The crackles filled her ears as she moved the handle absentmindedly. She thought about inviting her boyfriend Kyle over, but then decided against it, knowing he had a test in trigonometry that next morning. She rolled her eyes in annoyance, sometimes being alone got boring. She wanted someone to hangout with, watch movies, be a normal person with actual friends, not be a statistic, being the "cheerleader" with the "quarter back of the football team" as her boyfriend. She often wished she wasn't popular, because in the end, popularity is a word with no meaning. Her life wasn't set in stone with how many parties she attended, or how far she and Kyle got while he was in her bedroom, that was set in high school.

Chloe was never happy anymore and popularity was to blame.

The phone rang once more as an unknown number greeted her eyes. Answering it anyway, she figured it was a telemarketer.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not interested in buying anything, please do not call again." breathing on the phone caught her attention. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" a seductive voice asked her. Chloe blushed.

"Oh, god, I am so sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Is this Rebecca Miller?"

"No, I'm afraid you have the wrong number."

"Do I?" the male asked almost teasingly, Chloe couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah. It's alright. Hope you find who you're looking for eventually." she slipped her phone back into her pocket as the pop corn finished up cooking. She filled a bowl with the kernels and flopped on the couch, flicking to the _Syfy_ channel, maybe a little Nightmare on Elm Street could lift her spirits. The buzz of her phone echoed in her ears, muffled by the cushions of the couch. Seeing the same number from a few minutes ago made her smirk.

"I'm still not Rebecca Miller." Chloe teased. The male voice laughed.

"I know. I just wanted to call and apologize. I get annoying pretty quick."

"Ah, it's fine. I don't mind, I'm lacking the company."

"Alone too, huh?"

"Yeah." she answered back popping the buttery puff into her mouth.

"So what's your name?" he asked.

"Chloe, you?" he laughed again

"I don't trust so easily, how do I know you're not a serial killer or something?"

"Fair enough, stranger." her hand turned up the volume as Freddie's voice left the television speakers.

"So you like scary movies I hear." he replied referring the the menancing voice of the bladed man.

"Love them." Chloe responded. "They keep you guessing who the killer is."

"So, Chloe, what's your favorite scary movie." the switch of his voice made her shiver.

"Halloween, by far. You?"

"The one where the girl is in the house alone, and someone keeps calling her, saying 'check the children.'"

"Oh, when a stranger calls?" she asked.

"That one! Yes. That's a very...realistic one." Chloe perched herself on the edge of the couch.

"How so?"

"The girl looks a lot like you." the popcorn she held clattered to the floor with a thud. Her blood ran cold.

"What did you say?"

"The girl looks a lot like you." he repeated slower. Her eyes darted from window to window.

"And how do you know what I look like?"

"Because I've been watching you, Chloe. I've been watching you for months actually, trying to get into that little head of yours and figure you out. I was always curious to why you go out with a cheater. Don't you have a little self respect? Or are all cheerleaders stupid sluts who spread their legs out to the foot ball team?"

"Listen asshole! I don't need to take this from some freak who's jealous. Kyle loves me. He would never hurt me." his harsh laughter consumed her.

"Is that what you think princess?" he mocked. "Kyle Greenwell fucks any girl he wants, and you're his little one trick pony for when he wants to be paraded around. Face it, you're a prop. A status. You mean nothing." her finger slammed on the end call button as a sob left her throat. She went around locking all doors and windows, shutting the lights off. Vibrations echoed.

"STOP calling me. I'll call the cops and report your ass. Or better yet, I'll let Kyle take you!" she growled.

"Oh, Mr. quarterback is going to fight for a girl who he cares nothing about."

"Fuck you!" she seethed.

"Now, now. Don't be harsh. Kyle and I are together right now. He's a bit...tied up at the moment to talk."

"Where is he you sick fuck?" she yelled, walking window to window.

"Turn on the porch light." he whispered. Her fingers slid to the switch, shaking slightly as she flicked it upward, coming face to face with him. Blood leaked slowly down his temple as tape stuck to his mouth, tears sprang to his eyes as his muffled screams left his mouth. His hands were tied as were his feet. Chloe cried harder.

"Let him go! Please don't hurt him anymore!"

"Don't cry for a cheater doll-face. It doesn't make you look so pretty."

"Shut the fuck up and let him go!"

"Shhh...relax. It'll all be over and Kyle won't hurt you anymore. You don't deserve it."

"You're hurting me. Please, let Kyle go, and we can forget everything. I won't call the cops."

"I'm not hurting you, he is. He's killing you inside by being unfaithful."

"Stop it!"

"Turn off the lights. I can't let you see this." he whispered, her eyes seeing a cloaked figure with a blade to his neck.

"No! Kyle! No! STOP IT!" she screamed, banging on the glass. The cloaked hand grabbed the tape from Kyle's mouth, ripping it off.

"Chloe! I love you baby. I love you so much." he yelled. Sobs racked his body.

"Kyle..." she muttered weakly sinking to her knees.

"I hurt you Chloe. I can't live with myself anymore. He's right. I cheated on you. I cheated since we've been together. I love you, I don't know why I did it. Please, forgive me." her heart sank.

"Please..." she muttered, the banging of her hands becoming weaker.

That's when his throat was slit.

That's when her screams echoed harshly in his ears.

That's when he ran off with the knife in his hand. A few blocks up, he stopped and waited. That's when the sound of a gunshot, rattled through the peaceful air.

They could finally be together forever.

It was all because of him.

**Hey fanfic readers! This is my first fanfiction for American horror story! I wanted to go to a scream movie type vibe. I think I did a pretty good job for the prologue and switching things up. This is AU. I hope you all like it!**

**Please R&R.**


	2. Chapter 2

Eighteen year old Violet Harmon types absentmindedly on her laptop while Nirvana tracks blare from her outdated stereo system. Barely hearing the knocks that come in three on her bedroom door. The girl sighs, swinging her body from the swivel chair. Her cotton shorts and tank-top fitting loosely against her skinny frame. She opens the door with a click. Her father Ben stands there bemused.

"Sweetie, it's almost midnight. Can we at-least turn down the music a few notches? I have to get up tomorrow to visit aunt Jo. She's been calling non-stop to make sure i'm still coming down. Ever since your mother passed, she's been helpless..." his voice trailed off.

"Her being gone isn't easy for me either dad." she said in a sharper tone then she intended. Her father flinched. "It's been hard. I understand, but Travis is behind bars. That's the best we had since then. Mom would've been proud." she laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Violet. It's just...God, without her here. She was my wife. My lover, my best friend. I miss her more and more everyday, and you. You look just like her. You're a fighter like her. I'm proud of you."

"I love you. Go to sleep. I'll turn down the music."she smiled sweetly, kissing his cheek.

"Goodnight honey." just like that, he was gone, disappearing down the hall, his door shut behind him. Violet did the same.

"Jesus, I'd thought he'd never leave." said a male voice, making her nearly jump out of her skin, her blonde hair flinging to the side as she whipped her neck around so fast it almost gave her whiplash.

"For fucksake, Tate! What are you doing here? In case you haven't noticed my dad is _right _down the hall. Asshole." Tate Langdon smirked at his girlfriend of three years. His dimples sinking into his cheeks as his smile stretched revealing teeth

"Sorry." Although the tone in his voice told otherwise.

"Why are you here?" her arms crossed over her chest. She tapped her foot impatiently.

"I was watching The Exorcist and couldn't help but think of you." Violet snorted loudly.

"Which part, where the chick spews green slime or where she spins her head around?" came her sarcastic retort.

"Babe, c'mon. A guy can't see his girlfriend without a motive?"

"Everything you do has a motive Tate. What if Constance finds out you're here?"

"She's passed out...bourbon does that shit to her." Violet rolled her hazel eyes. She kissed Tate swiftly on the mouth.

"You really need to go. If my dad catches you in here, we're both dead." Another smile.

"I love a little risk...it adds spice to the relationship." he picked her up effortlessly, winding her legs around his hips.

"Tate." she whined as he set her on the bed, hovering over her, kissing her lips heatedly.

"I love you, Violet..." he whispered, his hands roaming her body with need. She felt something burn within her core as she pushed Tate's chest. Missing the disappointment evident in his eyes

"Okay, Romeo. Calm down. I love you too. But, before we do anything stupid. I want to stay a virgin a little while longer. No R-rated stuff right now." Tate grumbled, sighing, he got off the bed and walked towards the window. Night air ruffling his curls.

"I respect that. I just want to prove to you how much I love you." Violet blushed.

"I'll let you soon. Just not now." Tate nodded once more before making his exit down the window before Violet stopped him.

"Can we work with something a little more tame?" she slipping her tank-top over her head, letting her chest be exposed to his hungry gaze.

"You naughty tease." he mumbled, her laughter was the last thing he heard before slipping down the piping of her roofs gutter. Soon after, Violet fell asleep, not bothering to put her shirt back on.

XOXOX

"And I was like, no Janine, I will not do your math homework for an hour with your brother. He isn't that cute anyway, I can get better, I always get better. So then she goes- Violet, you listening to me?" Violet snapped her gaze on her bestfriend since preschool, Leah Johnson with a tired smile as they walked to school that morning.

"Sorry Lee, spaced out again. What were you saying?"

"Nothing important. So why are you so tired? Did Tate sneak through your window and fuck you senseless?" Violet shoved her playfully.

"No. He came over, yes, but no senseless fucking involved. He respects that." Leah scoffed.

"If Gabe was like that I would be on cloud nine, we have sex every weekend, sometimes it's just him doing everything. I barely get my pants off."

"He sounds so fucking romantic."

"Well he and your boyfriend _are_ like brothers, maybe Tate can teach him a few things." Violet laughed.

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"I forgot yours is already trained." the banter continued until they got down the street from Westfield High School. Gabe and Tate each waited for their respective girlfriends.

"Morning ladies." the guys chorused as Violet hugged Tate, and Gabe kissed Leah.

"Did you do Cromwell's essay for psychology?" Gabe asked Violet as they walked further.

"Yeah, finished it last night, and no Tate, you aren't copying. Same goes for you Gabe."

"Goddamn it." both boys grumbled agitatedly. Leah and Violet laughed.

"Hey, what the hell is going on up there?" Violet asked as soon as they got to the school's view. Seeing police cars scattered and teachers talking to newscasters and cameramen.

"You guys didn't hear?" came the voice of Stephanie Boggs, the resident goth girl that was currently coming towards them.

"Hear what?" Tate spoke, his arm wrapped around Violet's waist.

"Chloe Stapleton and Kyle Greenwell were murdered last night, some shit out of a fucking horror movie. Apparently Kyle's throat was slashed, Chloe went batshit and blew her goddamn brains out. Her parents found her dead hours later."

"Oh my god." Leah whispered. "She sat next to me in English."

"She talked to me back when I ran track." Tate murmured in awe. "And Kyle was a decent kid, he'd always be out practicing when I would do the 100 meter dash. He always said I would be famous."

"Damn. I didn't know either of them, but seriously, that's fucked up. They were kids, like us!"

"Tell me about it." Stephanie began. "They're interviewing everyone, no doubt the killer goes here."

"I doubt they went here. There are only one hundred and fifty students per grade. It would be easy to find out I would think."

"Well, whatever. Anyway, I thought I would tell ya's before the cops called you guys down to talk to you." and she was off, walking towards the way she came, Violet turned to Tate.

"I really don't want to be here Tate." she whispered.

"I know, but we have to be strong."

"Tate, my mother's anniversary is next week. This is all too much shit to handle." she ran a hand through her hair. "I need to go."

"Vi...Vi wait!" she turned.

"If you feel worse by third period, text me and I'll take you away." Violet smiled weakly before walking toward the entrance.

"This is truly a tragedy here today, as two teens from Westfield High were brutally murdered last night. The parents of Chloe Stapleton found their daughter and her boyfriend dead at around ten in the evening. It was truly a morbid thing to see. Although this is not the first gruesome murder to happen in the town of Westfield. Around a year ago, loving wife and mother, Vivien Harmon was brutally raped, tortured and finally killed, in her home. Discovered by her daughter violet in the bathroom of her bedroom." Violet's blood ran cold as she realized who was talking. Moira O'Hara. The newscaster who exploited her mother's death for profit. The young woman's bottled red hair curled to perfection, and her face in a cocky expression as she approached her.

"Violet! Do you think the death's of your classmates were an act of malicious behavior because of your mother;s anniversary is so soon?" Moira thrusted the microphone into her face.

"I'm not answering you Moira, get your top story from someone who gives a fuck to answer."

"Violet, do you feel it's your fault for the murder of your mother?" she asked again.

"Fuck off." Violet snapped coldly.

"Violet, do you think your mother would be proud to see you where you are today? Moping around and being miserable?" Then she snapped. Hitting Moira O'Hara in the face and treasuring the shocked look in her eyes when she dropped like a sack of potatoes on the ground.

That was when everything spiraled out of control and security grabbed her by the arms and secured her in a tight hold.

That was when Tate appeared, shoving his way through the crowd trying to get to Violet, and failing as he was thrown backwards and tackled.

The last thing Violet heard were the screams of her boyfriend muffled by the glass.


End file.
